Patient Love
by tai-chi-leigh
Summary: In which Percy accidentally chains his bike to Annabeth's and she's stuck outside in the cold while she waits for him to come back. She hates him, she's sure of it... (though affection is often a confusing thing). Oneshot. Percabeth AU. Title Credits to Passenger.


**A/N: Sorry I've been so MIA for a while. Been busy with school work and my job but I'm on spring break so hopefully I'll get some stuff up, even if it's short. This is unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine! Also, come talk to me on tumblr, my URL is tai-chi-leigh.**

**Written for the prompt: "You accidentally chained your bike to mine and I can't leave until you get back."**

* * *

Annabeth swears that when she finds the moron that did this, she's going to punch him in the face. It's probably the best scenario for him if she's being honest, considering she's already cursed his firstborn child to twenty-five years of bad luck and imagined about thirty different ways to murder him. She even knows where she'd hide the body.

(There's a river nearby and she'd be lying if the thought didn't cross her mind…)

Her breath comes in puffs around her and every time it does it makes her angry because, oh, it's ten o'clock at night and hardly forty-five degrees and _some asshole chained his bike to hers._

She kicks at the chain with her boot uselessly, cringing in pain as her already frozen toes sting upon impact. Her teeth chatter and she wrings her hands inside her hoodie pocket, wishing more than anything that she had worn a proper jacket or a hat or mittens or something to help her conceal the little body heat she has remaining. She's probably near hypothermic. She's probably near death.

She swears that if she dies she will come back to earth as a ghost and haunt this guy's soul for the rest of eternity.

Her eyes flick down the street toward the warm glow of the local diner. The warmth is so so_ so _tempting, but she's scared if she gives in and orders a cup of coffee to wait it out then she'll miss the guy coming to unchain is bike. And there's no way she's letting him off without a verbal berating at the very least.

"You look cold," a voice behind her points out. She whirls around to put a face to the voice, completely ready to spit a sarcastic '_no shit, Sherlock'._

Which is when she sees that it's the cute guy from her freshman seminar class and the response dies on her tongue.

"Annabeth?" he asks, and she feels the last vestiges of her body heat rush to her cheeks in shock because she didn't expect him to know her name.

"Hi Percy," she says, sniffling and trying desperately to control her body shivering so she doesn't look completely deranged.

"You waiting for someone or something?" he asks, looking both ways up and down the street (which, at this ungodly hour, is completely empty).

"It's a long story," she manages to get out despite the violent gnashing of her jaw.

He rubs a hand over his face tiredly, causing some of the hair under his hat to stick out at a funny angle.

"Did some asshole stand you up or leave you at the diner or something?" When he meets her gaze this time his jaw is set tightly and he looks a tiny bit offended on her behalf. Her knees knock together.

"No, nothing like that. But I'm kind of stuck here unless I can find some way to get home."

By the time she finishes the sentence, he has already shrugged out of his jacket. He holds it out in the space between them, tipping his chin toward her and raising his eyebrow in question. The gesture is gentle, sweet, and Annabeth feels her willpower crumble at the thought not shivering in her boots anymore.

She feels bad because he's left in nothing but a thin shirt, but the coldness wins out and she accepts the offer, pulling it on and relishing in the warmth as the wind _finally _stops going right to her bones. It's because she has finals next week, she reasons to herself. She can't be sick for that.

He probably does too, but she ignores that thought for a moment and smiles at him in thanks.

"I would totally drive you back to campus if I had a car, but I don't…" he frowns, "…I rode my bike here."

Annabeth's head snaps toward the bike rack, where, at this point in time, there are only two bikes remaining. Hers, and douchebag moron's.

Every bit of affection she had for him just moments ago seeps out and pure, unfiltered anger washes over her. Her mouth tastes sour and she bites her bottom lip in frustration. She should have known. She should have guessed it was him.

She takes a step toward him and prods his chest with her finger accusingly.

"You. Absolute. Idiot."

He steps back, eyes wide, the confusion and hurt clear on his face. It almost makes Annabeth laugh.

"W-what?"

"I have been waiting here for thirty minutes to kick your ass. Don't think that just because you were just nice to me doesn't make me any less angry. Because trust me, I'm furious."

She steps toward him again and he holds up his hands in surrender, his eyes frantically searching her face for answers. She imagines her smile is cruel.

"I can tell… but what the hell did I do?"

Annabeth laughs maniacally while giving the most menacing stare she can muster from underneath her hood. It's a great look for her, she's sure.

"You chained your bike to mine and I've been waiting here for ages, freezing, while you took your sorry time doing whatever the hell you were doing and—"

"Oh _shit_."

He stumbles toward his bike, lips turned down in apology.

"I'm seriously so sorry it was obviously an accident I would never do this intentionally wow I'm an idiot." He shoves his hand into his pocket to take out the key to the lock and Annabeth nods at his self-criticism.

"Yeah, and not only that, but I have finals next week and so help me god Percy Jackson if I'm sick for those I will—"

His hand pauses from rummaging around in his pocket and he turns back toward her, terror strewn across his face. Annabeth's heart drops.

"Um—"

She glares at him.

"What?"

"You're going to hate me—"

"I already do."

"Yeah but you're going to really _really really_—" he draws out each really and Annabeth can feel her patience snap.

"—Percy Jackson if you tell me that you lost the key I will physically hurt you."

Annabeth can feel her hands balling into fists at her sides. He closes his mouth and, after a moment of assessing her expression, must decide that her threat is valid. Making a split second decision, he turns on his heels and hightails it down the street toward the diner.

She chases him all the way there, muttering his name like a swear the entire time.

* * *

It's only moments later that she finds herself wedged in a booth between him and the wall, a piping hot cup of coffee in her hands. Despite the caffeine, the sudden warmth and the bright lights make her eyelids flutter in an attempt to stay awake. Not to mention that she's still swaddled in his coat (because she's still cold, okay?).

Although she'd never admit it to him, her anger is mostly gone and replaced by tired amusement. Probably because she's past the point of exhaustion, or maybe because she doesn't have the energy to remain angry with someone so innocent and clueless by nature. That doesn't mean that she doesn't take the opportunity to glare at him any chance she gets.

In fact, she glares at him more than necessary to make sure he knows _exactly_ how she feels. Which, she guesses, he does. He shies away from her stare and waves toward the waiter, asking for another cup of coffee when he notices that hers is almost empty.

She sips at it again, narrowing her eyes at him from over the brim of the mug. Maybe she's being a little bit overdramatic.

Or maybe she'd be back in her dorm and warm and asleep if this idiot hadn't been an idiot with his idiotic ways and his idiotic tendency to mess everything up.

He manages a nervous smile, the corner of his mouth tipping up a bit, and he presses a leg against hers in what she assumes he thinks is a friendly way. Through her bleary mind she wonders why he didn't just sit on the other side of the booth so they're not so squished.

She doesn't suggest it, though.

"I'm double sorry," he whispers, his voice low and his cheeks still flushed from being outside and running.

"A thousand 'sorry's couldn't make this better. Even if we get back to campus I'll have to come back here tomorrow and somehow figure out how to detach my bike from yours."

"Maybe the chainsaw underneath your bed?" he jokes, the humor touching his eyes just a little. She's astounded that he has the wherewithal to joke with her in this _absolutely-not-funny_ situation.

"Oh, I have other uses for that." She raises her eyebrows at him, pointedly.

"Already planning my death? But you hardly know me."

"Oh, I know your type, Percy Jackson."

"My type? I'm a type? Please, enlighten me." He sets his hands out on the counter, palms up, and looks at her out of the corner of his eyes in challenge. His expression is a little cocky and a little nervous, and it irks her in a way she doesn't quite understand.

Annabeth squares her shoulders and focuses on the fringe of his hair because if she looks at him directly, she'll lose her train of thought.

"Easy. You grew up in a typical suburban home for your entire life. Never moved. Had two wonderful parents, including an overprotective mother who brushed your hair every day before school because, as clearly evidenced, without her doing that it would never look presentable. Went to public school. Probably passed with decent grades, though you struggled in some subjects… I want to say English because you hated reading the books. You were the star of some sports team; we'll go with football. Got an athletic scholarship to come here and you continue to play sports and take classes obviously. Oh, and you probably have a little brother or something that worships you because, I don't know," she shrugs," I'd imagine you'd be a good older brother."

Her stomach buzzes a little as she tacks on the last part. When she looks at his expression, he seems baffled. He's leaning back a little and smiling so brightly at her it almost hurts to look at him.

"I swear you've been stalking me."

She nods, pressing her lips together in a line to be serious. "I like to read up on my victims before I murder them."

It's small, but she notices his ears wiggle slightly as he laughs. "No but seriously, that was all really accurate. Except for the fact that I've never met my dad and I swim, that was all on point. I feel like I just heard a biography of my life."

She suppresses the proud grin that threatens to make her way to her face and diverts her attention to her hands, which are gripping the coffee mug tightly.

"Knew it."

"I especially like the last bit about being a great brother," he adds and she can hear the warmth seeping through his voice so much it makes her sick. She imagines that if she looked up at him, that same warmth would be reflected in his face. It almost makes her feel a little guilty for being harsh toward him. Almost.

He inadvertently shifts even closer to her and she's not sure if he's doing it on purpose. It doesn't make her uncomfortable, though. The pressure of his shoulder against hers is… okay. Not disgusting or anything. Not as bad as she'd imagined it.

"You left out something, though."

"Oh?" She looks up to see the sly grin on his face.

"Um, the part where I accidentally chain my bike to a really cute girl's and then she murders me before I ever get the chance to ask her on a date."

Her eyes snap to his and her expression softens when she sees the blush that completely encompasses his skin. His lips are set together in a worried smile and his gaze flicks to her, shyly.

Her stomach feels uneasy, and where moments ago she was exhausted, there's now adrenaline flowing through her veins. And all of a sudden, the last bit of anger she has inside crumbles. She's likes him, dammit. Despite his bumbling stupidity and mild smugness, she wants to spend more time with him. In fact, it takes every ounce of self-control not to kiss him until he's smiling fully against her lips, and she doesn't hate herself for thinking that, either.

It takes her a second to formulate an eloquent response.

"Maybe… said cute girl can reconsider this death sentence until after the first date. Contingent on how it goes, of course."

His resulting expression lights up in such a way that she knows it'll be perfect. Even if he gets them lost in a blizzard. Even if he trips over his own two feet and knocks her down and they end up in the hospital with matching broken arms. Neither option is out of the realm of possibility.

"Really?" he confirms, a little bewildered, like he can't fathom that she just agreed to spend more time with him of her own free will. Her mind is a bit fuzzy and she doesn't really understand it, either.

"Really." She's sure.

"You won't change your mind?"

"I don't plan on it?"

"No matter what?"

"What are you trying to say—"

"Just. Annabeth." His expression is enamored and amused and it suddenly looks like he's trying not to burst out laughing and it makes her curious instead of annoyed that he clearly knows something that she doesn't. "You will come on a date with me, no matter what. Right?"

"I said yes."

"Great." He exhales loudly, a mischievous grin crossing his face. "In that case…" he slides down the bench to put space between them and reaches his hand into his pocket. He takes something out and she hears metal clink against the counter.

She knows exactly what it is before he even has to say it.

"…I found the key."


End file.
